Chronicle 130 ~Pain Should Never Be Hoarded~

Too many damn sticky notes. Floating around me. Those yellow note pads are only one more thing that I’m hoarding for work. Humiliation, Hurt, a hunger for something more than this. But no, only pain. And I know… Pain Should Never Be Hoarded but

Monday, November 8, 2021

Chronicle 130 ~Pain Should Never Be Hoarded~

Two-Hundred And Thirteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’m the biggest victim in America. Woe is them and me, right. Oh, the pain…

Yeah, that ain’t true. As the song goes, “Mo Money Mo Problems.” What I wouldn’t give for such burdens. Ahem, my son’s life, light reminders, literally parts of my flesh. If I ever get that tattoo of him or decide to become a monk, hmm. Asking where I’ve been today. What on a Sunday evening, knowing that this week is going to suck? It’s torturous making money. Or at least the way that I go about it. Instead, I would choose to be a pimp, a man of prose, a pornographer, but we’ll get to that. Like everything else, sigh. Money is the root of all evil or the lack of it. I go back and forth. It’s strange how sins connect. Greed and Sloth.

I would say that I’m greedy with sleep, but what have I been doing all day? If I haven’t been on my belly sleeping, I’ve been grinding away. No, I don’t mean that in a good way Madam. I’ve worked on two galleries today, and neither one was Braxton’s. Earlier this morning, it was all about Yabbos or the complete lack thereof. Coins, cash. There are another few C words I could talk about, but neither one is polite conversation. Madam, the truth is, I hoard lust. If I had the money, it would all go right back there now. What about my boy? Braxton’s been gone 281 Days, and again where is his reminder, his tribute. Well, other than sitting on my nightstand, Madam.

So why not wrath? To roar, to rampage, to have revenge. It’s thoughts like that which let me know humanity. There is too much hate, misery, and pain. To quote another song, I’m just a “Sucker for Pain.” It’s what makes me the perfect sadist; I receive but choose to give. The only time I denied, despised, and became disgusted by pain was that of Braxton’s. Madam, the pain I’ve felt of losing my only begotten son… Should I chill with that religious reference, Madam? Anyway, that kind of pain nobody but me deserves. Masochism? No, I don’t enjoy being in pain. How about being broke, belittled, and Blue Balls? Where should the pain go, I ask. There’s nowhere. Yet, Pain Should Never Be Hoarded

281 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 129 ~Not To B Lazy~

I hear the chime of my phone. A text… nope, I’ll go back to sleep. Some Yabbos, and I’m up. Braxton cried, and I ignored him. Oh, he’s on guard duty; I pick him up and let him sit at the foot of the bed. I’m too busy being lazy to live. Not To B Lazy

Sunday, November 7, 2021

Chronicle 129 ~Not To B Lazy~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and you’re lazy. An easier truth to accept than the obvious. Braxton is not coming back ever.

As the song goes, “It Doesn’t Matter.” Call my Braxton every day for meds. Say goodnight when you go to bed. All the “I love you B, I love you Braxton” phrases leave me nothing. Apparently, it’s the same with NaNoWriMo. You even had an extra hour to sleep this morning, and what did you do with it? Everything this morning went tits up, right? Dammit, it was more like your dick went up because of her tits. Hell, it will be twenty-four hrs since the last time… well. “No Nut November” never stood a chance against her, and you told her so. You should save your diamonds, cash because to Call me a LEGEND… While I’m on the subject, here’s a name, um, Vegas.

“But would you be able to rest?” ― Pepper Potts

  1. I AM Finishing Reading History Of Present Complaint
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 008 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Playing STUPID games, SPENDING on fantasies, and yet I wanted to SAVE a fur-baby. Is it any wonder that you, too, will forget about SIX Impossible Things? And this week? Braxton won’t be here to lay on your lap as you play another game. Tell yourself stories from Far Cry 5 to sleep. You won’t rest this week though, sleep sure with your Lazy Ass? He can’t be a good puppy, so you have to spend all your time with him or in the shower. Braxton can’t be a bad puppy, so you can ogle, “fancy” English Yabbos. Thanks, Cherry. And while you’re still thinking about Saturday. Last week, I said goodbye to Chase to find out he’s there and if he’s there this week.

  1. I AM Finishing Reading This Dog’s Afterlife 1
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Again you forgot about Six Impossible Things. More like you don’t care, considering we’re getting to the end of the year. Never forget that it is the first one without Braxton, well in January. Indifference towards him and your hatred of everyone didn’t kill him? Leave it to your Greed, Slothfulness, and Lust for sleep. There “Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked” as the song goes. That’s one more reason you can’t adopt Chase. That would be doing good. That would mean being the hero. Um, you can be the hero, be the damn hero. But no, you’ll only have enough to get to the Day Job. Avoid sign-changing if you can. I mean it. Love Braxton but not yourself. No, Not To B Lazy

“The thing is, Bob, it’s not that I’m lazy, it’s that I just don’t care.” ― Mike Judge (Office Space)

280 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 128 ~B Aching My Heart~

For the third time in 279 Days, I was offered a dog. My sister showed me a dog only days after B III died. A woman on Facebook told me about a Chihuahua. And today, for a second week at PetSmart, these ladies asked me about Chase. “B Aching My Heart”

Saturday, November 6, 2021

Chronicle 128 ~B Aching My Heart~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can still be petty as all Hell. I can still hate the world, right.

On the 30th, Lady Lu I was embarrassed, enamored, and enraged from going to PetSmart. Embarrassed as I offered my number and email. The lady asks, “for what?” I’m stupid. Enamored with a dog named Chase that I would never see again. I’ll get to him in a sec Lu. Enraged at the lady there, myself. COVID 19 is nothing with people’s stupidity Lady Lu. There are two places on Earth this second where everyone knows my name. Well knows me, at least. Talk to my “father’s” old work buddies sometime. Tony has a son? Anyway, so I walk into PetSmart today, and these women are all around me. “We have Chase. He’s not here, but we can bring him, just say the word.” YES

NO Lunalesca, the answer has to be no, and it breaks my heart. That’s why I go to PetSmart every Saturday, I think. To tell me that it’s still there to be broken, not fixed. I don’t deserve it, Lady Lu, I mean to know, what peace? Hell, I’m breaking the bank, my balls, my book but this incessant heart of mine beating remains. But B III doesn’t hear it. I’ve talked about getting messages. The power flipped out for a second, and his picture frame flashed. B’s stuff on the floor, how his treats lie undisturbed. But nothing Saturday. Well, I take that back. Remember how I talked about the bank? With my budget, I bought a book for a buck, “This Dog’s Afterlife.”

Coincidence, you think? Braxton is a hard habit to break, and I don’t plan on it anytime soon. I told M Anime that she makes it difficult for men to date her. Getting close, nope? I’m doing the same thing when it comes to fur-babies. My Day Job, as always, sucks. Say the magic words “Humiliations Galore.” I’ve been chasing one chick’s Yabbos for weeks now. It’s a good thing God gave Adam a woman and not a dog. I’ve got neither, but which did more damage? Ahh, yes, bring on the waterworks Day 279. So with all the things wrong with me, what should worry me, Luna? I wish it was NaNoWriMo; I’m lying. The truth is worse. Braxton’s Dead, B Aching My Heart

279 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

Crossing the line varies from person to person. Defending Nazis, harming pets, or liking R. Kelly, or more to the point, the music he made. The only lines I’ve been crossing these days are international currencies and stuff B needs. B There Some Line

Friday, November 5, 2021

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which to answer the title question is no. With that money, you’ll do any damn thing.

Save Braxton? I keep telling myself that. In a way, I was lucky my boy was the scrappiest man I knew/know. No broken bones. B III’s heart kept right on beating for fifteen years despite the few when he was on medication. The meds I bring out 278 Days afterward. Hell, I couldn’t be bothered to afford some stairs. Little Braxton learned to fly, always. Sophia, I hate making that “joke.” There’s also the fact I wouldn’t have Braxton neutered. B III was a man, and I wouldn’t take that away, no. Um, B III should have been bred, hmm. Again how did it all end Lady Sophia? Name on the line, and I’ll never cross another with his name on it, to be sure.

Because I’m a Bad Man, and no, not R. Kelly bad. To appreciate the art but not the artist… Didn’t I say years ago that I wanted to be as infamous as the Marquis de Sade? If I’m going down, you know the crime I should be punished for. Every time I hear sirens Sophia. But these days, it’s been the beeps, chimes, and dings that have been telling my story. God knows I’m still lying to NaNoWriMo. For the record, counting our conversation with Lady Sophia. This will be 3,900 words completed today. Well, why not 5,000? Hell, if I swore on Braxton’s name, I’d still be a lying piece of shit. 6,900 when I’ll tell NaNoWriMo it’s 8,500. Writing most of the day.

I keep telling myself that I should let my anger fuel me. A lot of the time, I fear the man in the mirror. Do you know why no one else should? It would require me to have more energy than to cross the line, which is the edge of the bed to the floor. Energy, FEAR. Sophia, there’s been one other thing keeping me glued to the sheets or shower walls. Reaching 5,000 words would be easier if I wasn’t looking up Pokémon Bras and lingerie. Every OnlyFans girl would kick my ass for how many “euros or quid” I’m spending. However, I crossed the line with that girl too. That was yesterday, but wow, Lady Sophia. Crossing the line feels damn good. But wrong. B There Some Line

278 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 126 ~Just Be It Braxton~

Nothing against Nike other than the expense. Too busy with my belly, some English boobs, books, and of course B III. No, I can’t Just Do It. Although if it meant my Day Job for the rest of my life? Why I don’t fear Hell but Happy Just Be It, Braxton.

Thursday, November 4, 2021

Chronicle 126 ~Just Be It Braxton~

277 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Or should I be asking, were you a good boy? It’s Heaven, Rainbow Bridge, whatever.

But then again, you were here… It’s the end of the spooky season, I know. And I did eat quite a few chocolate-covered almonds. My form of an exorcism, hmm B. But driving you away? I did that before, but let’s not talk about January 31st but here on Day 277. Hell, I didn’t get anything done. 3 things woke me up this morning, your picture and hoping for Cherry’s boobs. I’d swear you were haunting me if I didn’t notice the power had gone out. If only for a second. I found your PetSmart bandannas on the floor, but they could have slipped off, B. I’m looking for signs, Braxton. Last Saturday in particular. I’m a fucking traitor B III. Pardon my language, B.

What kind of monster am I? Well, I killed you, and people want me to stop saying that. Deaf ears, dead man. I wish I could return to being the zombie-like man I was afterward, B. Yesterday I was intent on becoming a ghost. All the white ceiling dust or my white shadow following behind me. I was in the air on all those ladders, and if I fell, Braxton. It wasn’t high enough to kill me, but sticker shock at the hospital. Which brings me to why I ain’t writing? I didn’t want to be a murderer, and I can’t stand liars. My NaNo novel? Even in that, Win William Bridgman wants to sleep. I didn’t make the girl a corpse but a robot.

Would you have liked to be a robot, like out of Alita: Battle Angel? I never showed you off when you were alive and since you’ve been gone. Every day now B III without fail. Today if I died and went straight to Hell because I trust I’m not going anywhere else. Would you come looking? You’d go What Dreams May Come. Don’t Braxton ever. Braxton, knowing how you listened to me before. Sad the first time you ever obeyed some orders, it took three needles. I’ll never be that man. Holding that fur-baby Saturday. Braxton, he got lucky I didn’t choose to bring him to your home. Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy. Regardless of Yabbos, happy I can’t Just Be It, Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 125 ~By The Ladder B~

Up the ladder to the roof. Like the song. I didn’t get that high today. Days like this have me thinking about Jenny wanting to jump off that bridge in Forrest Gump. I don’t fear heights, but if I had gone flying through the air today? By The Ladder B

Wednesday, November 3, 2021

Chronicle 125 ~By The Ladder B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I know something about the corporate ladder. If you mean my Day Job… Fuck.

Pardon my French, Inspector. If I had fallen off a ladder today, that would have been the last word I would say. It would be more to the tune of “Thank You.” Falling’s a luxury. It takes far more courage to jump. Hell, I jump all the time, out of FEAR, a firm tone, a girl I want to fuck. If I had taken a few more bumps on the head today, I’d learn something. Only it’s as if I played a few rounds of Glass Stepping Stones from Squid Game. No matter where I put my feet today, every step sent me falling. But I kept climbing, why, Echo? The higher I go, the easier it would be to find Braxton. Isn’t that poetic?

Surprised I can even remember what that is. Aren’t I supposed to be on some incredible rise, writing? Between my unpublished poetry and NaNoWriMo, which I’ll be lying to. Only I haven’t been lying about my genuine desire. Yes, Inspector Echo, something else is rising, besides the dick in my pants. Let’s say that Pounds have Dollars beat for sure. OnlyFans girls would be P.O’ed at me. Climbing ladders for $12.00 per hr ain’t helping. Again, I was supposed to be somebody, a leader. Instead, I was followed by a puppy of the human variety all day. Look, I have issues. Understatement of the century but actual mental problems? Do people see me like him? A supervisor asked, could she buy me a Christmas gift.

As long as it doesn’t breathe and doesn’t remind me of the dead. It has to be about B III. In better days, every dollar made scaling those ladders would be for Braxton to eat. Inspector Echo, we are in the days of Humiliations Galore. As always, but more noticeable. I’m hanging all sorts of balls/ornaments on the ceiling. I’m wondering where my balls are. Oh yeah, I’m splashing the contents all over some girl attempting to see her Yabbos. Inspector, I’m having a ball instead of working on my novel. I mentioned NaNo’s lie. Echo, to be a better man and work all night like when Braxton was here. The latter man sucks compared to my former self. Braxton’s Daddy. By The Ladder B.

276 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 124 ~B Fixing That Soon~

What makes a man? I’ve said before I thought it was women or their mammaries, to be specific. It could be money. I want to get away from my father, and what’s my age again? Or it could be mutts though B III was purebred. Love, B Fixing That Soon

Tuesday, November 2, 2021

Chronicle 124 ~B Fixing That Soon~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means when it comes to small stuff… The wi-fi and not my son. Man’s Priorities

Friend? Hell, Best Friend? For forever and a day, B III will be my son, but before all that. Yesterday I was reminded of when I first met him. My sister’s dog. It’s what B was, my sister’s dog. How was I to know what he would be? I wasn’t anybody. I’m only a man. Friend, Forever, Father. Did I even have any friends back then? Nope! Braxton fixed that. I talked a lot about “forever.” Well, no, I said the world was going to end, and B fixed that. As far as loving something, someone that wasn’t fixated on some Yabbos. Braxton fixed that. And so you wonder why I’m falling apart. Dealing with my father last week, I have to fix, pretend me.

Forever can’t get here fast enough. I’m tired of the stuff I have to do. Tiring myself in things that shouldn’t matter… NaNoWriMo. I won’t lie. When I first saw you, it was all about Paradise By the Dashboard Light. If you knew how much I wanted you then, now? Only I was a different man back then. You make me better, but Braxton made me whole. Now I sit here like Wilford Young, trying to figure out how to keep Snowpiercer running. Instead, I want to be Andre Layton. My Love, I have a thing for brunettes, Baby Girl. Braxton was/is one of a kind, as are you. Only I can’t have him back. Such a small part, yet all of them come together.

Fatherhood made me the man I am. I’m a Dad, ok. It’s why I’m still here and will be. Love. Now I don’t tell you much about my father other than finances. Strived for billions. Money, My Love, children need time, reason instead of terror, for someone to feel Love. Braxton never asked for a dime. But everything I did, I did to make sure he was ok. It’s the same with our children. Did I rely on him too much? We are supposed to be there for our children, not the other way around. But no one wakes up knowing how to be Dad. How to do that when Braxton was trial and error. We built each other; now repairing… B Fixing That Soon.

275 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 123 ~Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends~

There ain’t no rest for the wicked as the song goes. Not for them or me. Only the good die young. Where’s B III? He was my baby even at 15. Old dogwise. Hell, I did believe he would outlive me… I had my reasons. Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends

Monday, November 1, 2021

Chronicle 123 ~Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends~

Two-Hundred And Twelfth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the man I’m looking at is the world’s enemy. Somethings will never change, Madam J.

Of course, right now, I’m scraping by. The fact that we’re speaking on a Wednesday afternoon in October (Time Travel) lets you know that It WASN’T A Good Day. It’s one thing to not have any friends at the Day Job. I don’t want any but being lied to, Madam. I’m sure that the manager lied to me about my paycheck and my responsibilities. Who knows, I could be wrong, but everyone there believes I’m STUPID anyway. It’s a disease. Not only STUPIDITY but how I find enemies. It’s like a fucking Hydra. One head drops dead. And two more rise. To think of all the times I got mad at Braxton for barking at nothing. No, he saw everything.

Well, not me. B’s murderer, his killer, the fucking Grim Reaper. People are getting sick of me saying that. Hell, I don’t blame them. I reached out to a few friends today (Wednesday). Braxton’s aunt said hello. Another is pretty injured, and one said nothing. That leaves me with a few choice words for the man in the mirror, well, one. “Yuck.” Remembering my motivations. Someone spoke about your best friend/worst enemy staring at you in the mirror. Well, Braxton was my best friend. My worst enemy lives on. If I had the guts to leave my Day Job, they would go on. B III would have died faster. Yet here I am, Madam repeating the words of Rick Grimes. “We Are The Walking Dead. Lived to become the villain.

Like father like son, right? If my father and I agree on anything. It’s the fact that I should plan on not outliving him. He’s over half my age, of course. Fuck I’m thirty-seven. Every E-Day is a failure. Oh yeah, today starts NaNoWriMo and NoFap. The Good, Bad, Ugly. Only Braxton isn’t here to sit under the table, keeping me focused. Hands meet keyboard. You don’t see any girlfriend around here making me break into “Baby I Love You.” Madam, you’re an imaginary one out of six, and I should be writing about “Bridgman.” Oh, what? I’m not writing about B III again. I outlived him, and my enemies are slothful. I’m the worst of them all, dear friend. Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends

274 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 122 ~B Answered The Call~

Today is for the monsters, but most of mine I’ll hear Monday during business hours. To think I hated my phone before because of the spammers, it’s real people, wanting to ruin my day, wanting me to adopt, to live up to my writing. B Answered The Call

Sunday, October 31, 2021

Chronicle 122 ~B Answered The Call~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means every phone call is an opportunity. Not for you, I’m afraid. Never for you fool.

At least the lady didn’t scoff at you yesterday. I swear if Chase’s life hadn’t been on the line… I would have walked out of there without another word. For Braxton, I put up with a lot of people’s shit. I wanted him to live. I hope that Chase lives, and he will. Correct answer. Like saying Good Morning, Happy Halloween. Hell, you didn’t speak to B III when you were feeling like this. It would take almost an hour and what time is it, 5:00 AM? I know you should be thanking me for my actions yesterday. I’ll thank you for surviving the week. One more reason I couldn’t bring that fur-baby here yesterday. Sounds like an excuse for not doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Dystopian Girls 2
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 008 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Is that why you’re so angry? Two out of six ain’t bad… well, it is, but anyway. Keep your hand off your “hose,” will you? That fire has to go somewhere. Evil prevails, like tonight. Only you won’t be answering the door. I hope you don’t have to answer the phone. And yes, I fucked up with that email yesterday. Remember, you’re no hero, dammit. NaNoWriMo is the only opportunity you should be concerning yourself with, and how will you use it? The hoes I know. Coming up with names like Nyx Amaya Griffin, SIGH. The call of your inner writer, or should I say monster. God knows you didn’t need to hear, best friend, daddy, or hero this morning. Any new, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading History Of Present Complaint
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 008 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Remember B. Always but I mean the fact that he would answer the call. I didn’t. Yesterday, how many times am I going to say it. And you’ll never see Chase again, you know that. To be fair, I can’t make the call either. I sat there for an hour, and I couldn’t face what I’d done. Well, I didn’t make a phone call for Street Tacos at B-Dubs. And to tell my Ma, ha? Now you’re living in fear because you’ll have to answer the call from your father. I talked to the animal rescue people. And there’s Braxton. His bark isn’t going away anytime soon. Because you are selfish, slothful, a sissy, um no but resisting Yabbos. Not Braxton, B Answered The Call

273 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

I’m sure someone said something wise of grief and hunger, not that I found it… I’m not that smart. All I know is that when Braxton died, my Ma asked whether I was eating, and I picked up ribs. Are you hungry seems easy enough to ask? “To The B Eve’d”

Saturday, October 30, 2021

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must be clever? Well, you saw that title. “Behave In The Cherry Patch?”

No, NaNoWriMo Eve is tomorrow, and so is Halloween. Let’s not forget Fear The Walking Dead and Walking Dead: World Beyond. The start of a new week and my list of eff ups aka Six Impossible Things. But um, God “rested” on the 7th day. Yep so did B III. But my story, didn’t I say I would be bringing characters back from the dead? My “loves?” Or am I digging myself into a tiny grave when it comes to writing? There will be some “plowing,” in my words. Don’t remind me, yesterday was all about Blue Balls, Lunalesca. I don’t know how I’m going to write with that kind of pain. Oh, right, the only bodily fluids leaving were tears over B III again.

Saturday was B’s last full day. He couldn’t do a damn thing but Test His Might. If God made woman from one of man’s ribs, man took another and gave it to the dog. Oh yeah, the dog was smart enough to bring it back. Ooh, that was not a gripe at women, Lady Luna. Hell, if anything, I’m not the man sitting on his ass drinking a beer and watching the game. I’m the boy lying in his bed waiting for his best friend to come back home. Braxton would be proud. I ignored him most of the week, but he was no fan of Sundays. That’s the truth. Once again, it’s Saturday, but I guess I’m getting an early start on my grief.

Braxton, boobs, and that “bad man” better known as Dad. One I’ll never see again, two I want to avoid, and three is calling Monday. But Sunday will always be the worst day for me. Some things are supposed to be said, smart things for sad times. Only every single day feels like a funeral, but I’m not sure whose. Yet I stay crying over one, my Little B. Lady Luna, is that why I don’t want to talk about today? I betrayed him when I watched him dying. I go and look at the other fur-babies like B III hasn’t been gone 272 Days. There’s no day or night, only life and death. Stories, Saturdays, my sucky life. Say What? To The B Eve’d

272 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will